life

a magpie’s message…

stanley & bear

Freida’s unexpected arrival into our world has healed so many deep-seeded wounds.

We were not expecting her. Nor did I expect the magnitude of love I would feel for her. Her presence has evoked conflicting emotions: sadness, yet joy. I say this because her resemblance to Oscar is eerily uncanny. She has very similar colouring and her mannerisms, sometimes they stop me in my tracks. I feel she is meant to be here and maybe that’s why I had a very unusual visit from a very inquisitive magpie, which has me believing that maybe there was some kind of divine intervention.

So what does a magpie have to do with Freida’s arrival?

About a week prior to me hearing Freida was available for adoption, a magpie appeared on the balustrade on the deck of my home. He looked right at me, and when I approached, he remained. I stood right beside him, looked into his eyes, and he stared back with such intensity. I felt a warm, comforting tingling sensation run through my body. Not one of fear, more one of knowing. I felt he was trying to tell me something. I called him Malcolm and he visited for 3 consecutive days: he would arrive, watch me from the balustrade for up to 4 hours, then disappear. Sometimes he would jump down onto the deck, walk inside and stand just inside the door and watch. Stanley didn’t react, he simply watched with interest. On the 4th day, he didn’t arrive. I’ve not seen him again.

A few days later I Googled ‘magpie visits’ and I was astounded at what I discovered. Apparently a visiting magpie is deemed to be intensely spiritual. Here’s a excerpt; When a bird acts in an unusual way (for example is particularly friendly or appears to be looking for attention), or it appears repeatedly (at least 3 times in a short-period of time), it is trying to convey a message from the spirit world to you.

Whilst I’m a spiritual person, I’m not religious, yet also a believer in the unusual and unexplained. So this visit from Malcolm was puzzling.

A few days following ‘Malcolm’s departure, I had the call about Freida. Did I want to meet her? Of course we did and she came into my life and has brought so much light to a very dark place. She is perfect in every way.

Is that what Malcolm was trying to tell me? If so, he was so very right.

.

life

the new chapter…

stanley & bear

Recently I read a book called Denali: a man, a dog and the friendship of a lifetime.

The story of a young man’s unique friendship with his beloved dog, Denali. Following Denali’s death at 14, Moon struggles as his grief is ‘so sustained and intense’. On sharing his grief with a friend he is told: “that’s because your bond was so strong. When you lose your canine soul mate, you not only lose the dog that has been your companion and friend, but you also have to let go of that chapter of your life. It forces you to grow into what you’ll become: it’s the last parting act of friendship.”

I thought of my own grief from losing Oscar, and as I continued to read, I felt comfort in the author’s words. I too have to let go of a chapter, and I know Oscar would want that. Yet moving on to the next chapter does not mean I’m moving on from him. It simply means that I cannot continue to live in his chapter, for he is no longer there. He has completed his journey and now I need to complete mine. And as hard as it is do so without Oscar, it is something I have to do to ensure my happiness.

Bear Dog would want me to run, be free and be happy, just as he was. He would want me to grow and I truly believe it was Bear’s last parting act of his love and friendship. It was the completion of his journey.

So as I now step into this new chapter, I now know I can reread, I can embrace photos, and I can allow my heart to be filled with only love as I relive the beautiful memories of our chapter together. But I cannot go back.

So I shall go forward.

Sometimes I feel the reason we cannot move forward is because we do not want to let go. In moving forward, it is as if that previous chapter did not exist and there is an element of guilt associated with that. We feel we are betraying their being, their memory. I personally feel in moving on, Oscar is left behind. But rationality reminds me that this thought process is completely irrational. Oscar has not been left behind, he is firmly imbedded into my being. He will always be here.

He loved me, I was his person. If he could speak to me now he would be saying, in his gruff little voice, these words:

Remember how special our relationship was. remember the warmth of our closeness. Yes, I have now crossed the rainbow bridge, so please be happy that I am ok. Please laugh again, smile again and do yoga again. That was our thing, remember? I loved it when you would lie on the floor, particularly when you did downward dog, I loved that one the most as it was my cue to chin chew. Without my help you would not have been able to do those complicated poses.

You would also not have been able to go in the right direction without me sitting upright in the car. And the funny way I would walk when I was in a hurry. Particuarly when we were on the way home from a walk. It was as if my back legs had to move faster in order to propel my whole body up the hill. I had a very important walk. But of course there were moments when I had to suddenly stop to sniff. That happened frequently. You would sometimes get mad, well not really, but then we would continue on.

When I was navigating in the front seat, I’d get mad when we stopped. I didn’t always understand that you stopped because you had to: i.e. traffic lights. But I would whine in my own unique way and I would tilt my head to the side, tongue hanging out whilst I looked at you, willing you to keep moving. And as soon as we stopped anywhere other than traffic. Id really let you know I needed to get out and explore the surroundings.

And my Stanley is here, by my side. His loyalty is heartfelt. His calmness his aloofness, his professorship ways as Mum says. He does not bounce like Oscar, he is unassuming, quiet and totally devoted.

Together we now have this new chapter, we don’t know what is written, we just need to be present, with each other and enjoy what may come.

Bear would have wanted that. I know he would.

life

Loving Freida…

stanley & bear

Following the loss of my precious Oscar aka Bear, there were moments when the grief was so intense and the sense of despair overwhelming. I was broken in so many ways. As was Stanley.

Then Freida unexpectedly entered our lives.

Being only 8 months since losing Bear, I did not feel ready to bring another soul into our lives. Yet I was soon to understand just how profound her arrival would be in allowing us all to begin to heal.

Here’s why.

Her being has warmed mine. She is uncannily like Oscar in many ways, yet also very different in others. I look at that difference favourably as she is not Oscar, obviously, and nor do I want her to be. She is Freida, a beautiful, loving soul who exudes happiness. Her tail does not wag, it thuds. And alongside the thudding her entire back ends moves in rhythmic motion to the thudding.

She is gentle, sweet and all kinds of kooky, rolled into a bundle of wild boar coloured wiry fur. Like Bear, she adores affection, and will demand what we have now dubbed her face cuddles. She will climb onto my lap and nuzzle her head and nose against my cheek and remain that way for a number of minutes. If Im sad, she knows and she will simply bring herself close, allowing me to feel the rhythm of her gentle breathing. It is calming and beautiful. As is her being.

And whilst her presence has healed the intense pain of Bear’s loss, it is her effect upon Stanley’s well-being that is also profound. He too was immensely broken at losing his brother, soul mate and best friend. In the months following Bear’s passing, Stanley was lost. Freida found him.

Our little family is complete again. I still have moments when the tears flow with such intensity, yet in those moments, Freida will appear, nuzzle my face gently, and rest her warm, wiry body against mine.

life

Closing the chapter…

stanley & bear

As a young woman I tended to ignore my instincts that suggested someone’s behaviour was not indicative of a positive, fulfilling relationship. Probably due to many years of relentless bullying that mentored a deep lack of self-belief and self-love.

Yet as time passed, many positive experiences and relationships allowed me to nurture self love and as that grew, so did my ability to listen to, and honour my instincts. As such, there were very few times in which I didn’t act on instinctual signals.

Until recently.

For reasons not yet determined, old behaviours surfaced and I found myself becoming that frightened little girl who, many years ago, sheltered from the tormenters, ran from the bullies. Past fears dictated my behaviour and the strong, fearless woman I am now, hid in the shadows of self doubt. I forgot how to protect myself and so I became caught in a web of negativity and narcissistic behaviour.

Then I remembered.

Remembered I was not that frightened, bullied, little girl. I was a strong, independent, loving woman who did not cower to narcissistic behaviour.

So I acted, and closed a chapter that should never have been reopened.

life

Bitter or better; I choose better…

stanley & bear

Without realising, I was being swept up in the drama and negativity of other’s actions.

I was allowing myself to engage, until realising this morning that this engagement was causing immense disharmony to my being.

So I need to disconnect. To once again become grounded in the present, and not allow my self to be carried away with the negative.

I have the choice. The choice to change, the choice to be better.

Many years ago, after suffering an immeasurable loss, I read the quote:  when tragedy strikes your life you can choose to be one of two things – bitter or better: I choose better. 

I have had to remind myself of those poignant words, and perhaps edit them slightly.

When negativity enters your life, you can choose to be one of two things – bitter or better: I choose better…

So I choose to live in the present moment, see the happiness, see the positive and revel in the good.

I will never be able to change the actions of others, yet I can change how I respond and react.

So rather than engage in bitterness, anger, and disgust, I shall embrace the quiet, the peace and the beauty of the present moment.

I choose better.

life

The simple art of being…

stanley & bear

In the background, gentle music fills the chilly winter air.  On the floor, my two precious pups lay curled together in front of the heater. Frieda’s dark, shiny head is tucked beneath Stanley’s chest. Their rhythmic breathing, restful and calm. How I cherish them.

Their presence enriches my life and allows me to find contentment in just being, there is no longer any rush to get to somewhere else.  I enjoy the Now. Something I had always struggled with.  I was constantly searching for somewhere else to be, someone else to be.

Yet now, I feel such freedom. Freedom from that feeling that had enveloped my mind and being for so many years.  Maybe it came down to feelings of not fitting in during my younger years.  In having those feelings, the need to flee and be somewhere other than where I was dominated my being, thoughts, and feelings.

A couple of weeks ago, we had an intense argument that led to an intense conversation about true feelings, needs and expectations.  Afterward, I felt as though I’d been washed clean with honest words and feelings. Years of anguish, doubt and hurt collided with fear and expectations that morning. In the aftermath, recognition and understanding and the need to always communicate with honesty and clarity prevailed.

I feel we moved forward in so many ways.  We are family and we love each other deeply, I know that, and I feel so grateful and proud of them. 

So where to now?  For the moment I will take the Now, second by second, minute by minute, day by day. I do know that sometime in the next year, I will find my forever after place. A place where rolling green hills shape the landscape. A place where birdsong is ever present and a place where I can sit and listen to life. Life in all it’s gentle splendour. A place where I will take those long, slow walks in the company of my precious dogs and nature.

A place where I can sit on a sunlit verandah watching the clouds, listening to the nothing. 

A place that will allow me to breathe in my twighlight years with peace, tranquility, and love. 

No longer needing, wanting, or yearning. 

For I have found all I need in who I am, and in the few beautiful, precious souls who complete me.

life

Emotional exhaustion: striving for perfection…

stanley & bear

She was tired. So very tired. And as the moments wore on, she could feel the levels of fatigue rise within her, feeding her anxiety. In an instant, her emotions exploded and poured from her being with the same intensity and fury of lava erupting from a volcano. Words spilled from her mouth. Words that articulated caged feelings that had lay dormant for weeks.

This outpouring of emotion, in such intense form was out of her control, as according to World Health Organisation (WHO), she was experiencing the ‘occupational phenomenon’ known as emotional exhaustion. WHO states emotional exhaustion is on the rise in the workplace, particularly for those whose roles are laden with high expectations and prolonged exposure to stressors, which are defined as a previous traumatic life event or situation.

Further, The Centre for Studies on Human Stress (CSHS), defines a stressor as “anything that causes the release of stress hormones“, which are our bodies natural response to stress and prompts what is colloquially known as our ‘fight or flight response’. The Mayo Clinic states, “stress is often interpreted as a threat to survival. When this happens, it increases the release of stress hormones from your brain, further contributing to your experience of emotional exhaustion.

Jane Leonard from Medical News Today writes that an emotionally exhausted person may appear unusually cynical or pessimistic, and may lose their motivation to perform simple tasks. If an individual is exposed to stressors for a prolonged period, the level of emotional exhaustion rises and they may react with fear, aggression or an uncharacteristic display of emotion. Further, it is important to allow the emotionally exhausted person to express these emotions, as an intense outburst is often an emotive release and as a result of the stressor being eradicated. The Mayo Clinic confirms the latter by saying that once the ‘stressor’ has been removed, “… the amount of stress hormone released is decreased so you are able are able to feel more emotionally balanced...”

So as aspects of her life changed, the intensity of her emotions began to recede and she realised she was okay. 

She realised it was also okay to fill silence with intensity and conviction. It was okay to display caged feelings. It was okay to be vulnerable. 

And it was okay that her emotional explosion appeared erratic and out of character. It was needed and in fact, immensely cathartic. 

Yes, she had been tired, so very tired…

Images: Stanley&Bear Photography

Sources

Mayo Clinic

The Centre for Studies on Human Stress (CSHS)

Healthline

Help Guide

World Health Organisation

BetterUp

Dis-like: how social media feeds into perfectionism

life

With you I was always me…

stanley & bear

It’s your birthday soon. You would be turning 92.

I yearn to call, to share, to listen and to speak with the one person who really understood.

For there were no boundaries, no walls and no pretence.

No need to impress, no yearning for approval, no feelings of inadequacy.

With you, I was always me.

Sometimes I lose that woman who shone in your light. The woman who bathed in your wisdom, bathed in your strength. That woman who, in your presence, allowed herself to breathe, to believe, to shine.

I took a drive to the ocean the other day. It was a day you would’ve embraced. For you loved the ocean, particularly on cold, stormy days. You often said that’s when the ocean was really alive.

When waves crashed on hardened sand, and heavy, black clouds weighted the sky with intensity and fury. That was when, you said, the ocean was truly alive.

On those days, when the weather raged, you’d forage for shells, often finding those that hadn’t fallen victim to the endless pounding of fierce waves. You’d always find those that remained whole, pure and as one. A reflection of you perhaps.

The morning after you left, I took a walk by the ocean. The sand was scattered with shards of broken shells, I paused for a moment and at my feet lay a perfect shell. Did you place it there?

I took it home. It now sits in the frame of your picture.

Yes, with you, I was always me…

It’s your birthday soon. Happy 92nd Mum.

I love you. Always.

life

Life’s too short, or is it…?

stanley & bear

You’ve heard the old adage: life’s too short to be somewhere, do something, etc etc. Personally that saying has at times been the catalyst to powerful decision making, propelling me onto paths I never expected to walk and moved me in directions that nurtured my soul and nourished my appetite for incredible adventures.

I don’t often voice those 3 words, rather, for me its a feeling, a response to a situation or probably more profoundly a knowing that something within that situation just isn’t right. My body responds negatively. My being tenses and withdraws and there’s an intense feeling of being caged and unable to move. I ponder my emotional and physical response before the feeling envelopes me and urges me to act.

And I do.

In doing so, I’ve come to realise that life truly is too short to spend time pondering or worrying whether you should or shouldn’t be somewhere or be doing something that causes stress. In my experience, if I’ve had to ask myself if life is too short to be where I am, then maybe I’m not meant to be there. And when I have acted, I’ve found myself having some incredible moments. In 10 days, I made a swift decision to move to Taiwan to teach English, in which I made lifelong friends. I accepted a photojournalism job in India where I found myself constantly taking selfies with an hilarious water buffalo whose name was Buff. And I began an 860 kilometre walk across Spain that was one of the most self-reflecting journey’s I’ve ever embarked upon.

Our footprints are meant to be left anywhere and everywhere. So if you do find yourself questioning where you are from an emotional or physical perspective, maybe it’s time to leave your footprint and begin a new journey.

Life really is never too short, maybe it’s just the time spent in one place that is …

life

For Mum: beautiful memories…

stanley & bear

She did not use words to voice her excitement, rather, Mum’s excitement was shown through expression. Her smile grew wide and her eyes sparkled like those of a toddler who delighted in the gifts that lay beneath the Christmas tree. Her fingers glided over the electronic buttons embedded in the armrest, and her eyes rested upon the menu that was placed neatly on her seat alongside the amenities pack.

As she began to settle in her Business Class seat on a Qantas flight bound for Frankfurt via Singapore, tears began to glide down her cheeks. She turned toward me and slowly mouthed a simple, ‘thank you’.

I will never forget that moment. She was so happy, so thankful and so excited. I hugged her warmly, then together, we chinked our chilled glasses of champagne, took a long sip and revelled in the moment.

Adjacent to us, my boys then 10 & 12, were excitedly exploring the gadgets, gifts and myriad of entertainment on offer in the expansive seats that made them look very small. And whilst Mum’s excitement was contained, theirs was not, and with every new discovery, squeals of joy permeated through the cabin.

Watching my family’s happiness, I was thankful. Thankful for being a Qantas employee whose benefits included free Business Class tickets to any destination in the world, and thankful that I could share those benefits with those I loved.

I had surprised Mum with the tickets after previously speaking with Dad. He did not want to come, rather, he felt a trip with Mum and my two sons was a perfect idea. Knowing Mum adored Europe, I knew that was the perfect place for us to go, and as I believed, as did Mum that the best experiences were those that happened serendipitously, our itinerary was unplanned. The only sure thing was the month long booking of a hire car that we’d collect on our arrival into Frankfurt Main, and from there, who knew.

Many hours later, with Mum and Rob in the back of our hire car and Max, as self-appointed navigator in the front, we set off through the dark, underground car park in search of the exit. This simple task turned into a laughter filled adventure when the boys spotted a sign with the words Ausfahrt splashed across the vivid, green background. Farting noises and giggles followed and despite discovering it was german for exit, throughout our journey, it was a constant source of amusement for them.

On Christmas morning 2007, with giggles abated, we finally emerged from the darkness to find ourselves immersed in a spectacular, snow filled landscape.

It was indeed a very merry Christmas.

For the next few weeks, the laughter was in abundance and the adventures numerous. You loved that trip and in the years following, you spoke of it often.

Lake Annecy, France

It has now been 14 years since that wonderful adventure, and as today is the anniversary of my first year without you, I felt sharing some of our adventures is a fitting tribute to honour the beautiful, funny, crazy and incredibly loving woman, mother and grandmother that you were.

I’m so grateful for our relationship, so grateful that I was always there for you and so grateful you were always there for me. I’m so happy I took you to Europe, Bali and many other destinations we found ourselves in. So grateful we spent the afternoon of Christmas Day watching the world go by at Mooloolaba beach from the comfort of the car. Dogs on laps, we laughed as you did a running commentary of people strolling by. You loved that. You loved it when we took many leisurely drives through the countryside. We would stop many times to take in the quiet, and simply to be.

Mum, I could write for hours about all the things we did together, and I love that only we shared so many crazy, laughter filled moments.

‘Slipping’ on rainy streets in Singapore, crazy ‘mattress rides’ in France, being the ‘pied piper’ on Austria’s winding roads, sipping vin chaud in quaint bars, and feeling like fugitives in Switzerland. How could we forget Delphine throwing cooking oil on unsuspecting drivers in Germany, then the laughter filled snowmobile rides on France’s glorious snowfields. At home, those endless hours chatting downstairs, whilst Dad sat snoring happily in an adjoining chair. How we laughed when in unison, we would say, ‘Ken/Dad, go to bed…’.

I am so lucky to have so many memories and so many photos of our life together.

I won’t pretend to say I’m not sad, I am, I’m heartbroken knowing I can no longer create memories with you. Yet despite my sadness, I know you were so happy that we were so close and that replaces all my sadness with joy.

Mum, you were my best friend and my greatest support.

I will miss you forever…